When You See This, It'll Be Too Late
by PREttYPAIN
Summary: Daelyn made her choice. Now she must live with it. But someone new is left with the same task. Is Daelyn's focus on her relationship with Santana making it impposible to save her?
1. it doesn't end with hello

_I just finished reading this book, and I loved it. The ending was so frustrating though! So here's how I hoped it ended with a lil' extra thrown in. =)_

_Disclamier: I own nothing I tell ya! Nothing!_

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I thought it was over. Skip Once Upon A Time, no Happily Ever After, just The End.

Game Over.

Thanks for playing but you have no more tokens and you had no chance of winning anyways.

I don't know wether I feel relieved or disappointed, but as make my way through the empty house I let out the longest breath I've ever held. I'm not being cowardly. It isn't fear that made me change my mind. I had gotten over the fear of dying long ago. No, it was something worse than that.

The fear of missing something. Something I felt I had a right to, just like everyone else.

It's raining as I make my way down the streets, the familiar grass and sidewalks seeming to open to me invitingly. It's not the worst thing; feeling a small bubble of happiness flit through your stomach. I'm being ridiculous, I know. Happiness is fleeting, as is everything else in this short life. But I can't stop the fluttering my heart feels as I walk up _his_ porch and knock.

I hear the birds chirping, the sound of a car door opening some feet away, a dog barking in the distance, my own heart beating. And then the door opens and he stands staring at me like I'm a ghost.

I can't muster a single sound, especially when he keeps staring at me like that. His blue eyes brighten then, and a small smile turns the corners of his lips up.

"You made it."

I nod. Even though my vocal chords can work, I still feel awkward speaking. More so to him.

"Good." He reaches over, looking at me catiously, his eyes asking something. I know what it is and I don't need to answer aloud. With feelings that feel so foreign, I reach back and close the distance between our hands, interlocking my pale fingers with his.

He smiles even wider, his blue eyes making my heart slow. "Come on."

And he leads me into his house, the smell of food overtaking my senses as his fingers softly trace circles on my palm. In this moment, I try to convince myself that this is a much better alternative to how I was originally planning to spend my day.

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_sooo...whatcha think? _

_reviews are love! _

_xoxox_


	2. fingerprints can render you silent

_back again kids. with more this time =)_

_disclaimer: ya already know_

_**edit: I'm revising this whole story. I made a huge error kindly pointed out by a reviewer but don't worry ya'll I'm fixing it with slight changes. It'll improve the plot also.**  
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It was two weeks since I had made my choice. Or not made it.

I was always better at facing the truth than my parents, even though I never spoke about it. So I spent my days with Santana and my nights debating whether I should come forward to my parents about everything. I knew it would change everything more than any of the other stuff had. They knew I was a wreck. The whole swallowing ammonia and bleach kind of gave it away. But when they knew the whole truth, would it only make things worse?

I look to Santana's laptop. What had happened to all those posts I had typed? Would all those unknown users think I had succeeded? Would they even care?

Of course not. I was just another screen-name waiting to end my life. I ignore all the thoughts jumbled in my head and lay back on my bed, feeling Santana's hands on my waist. He had touched me today, when I was visiting with him afterschool. Not even on purpose yet I had pulled away so sharply I could see the hurt in his eyes.

It was my fault that I had been clumsy enough to trip over a crack in the sidewalk and my fault for falling against him. He was only being helpful when he grasped me by the waist and pulled me against him, so close I could feel wiry muscle beneath his thin sweatshirt. It made me ashamed and flustered and so awkward I wanted to run away. So I pulled away instead.

I turn over on my side and close my eyes. Why did he hesitate when he pulled me against him? And when he did, why did his hands linger on my hips? It must be some unspoken boy code I was never let in on. I remember all the girls at school who had boyfriends. Was this what they dealt with on a daily basis?

Not that Santana is remotely anything like my boyfriend. I don't even think of things like that. At least, I never did. I hated boys and never wanted them to touch me. But Santana's touch is so different; it makes me forget about everything except his hands on me. Is it so wrong?

I think of the time he kissed me, when I had been so stupid and stabbed him with a pencil. His lips had been soft at first, meshing with mine in a way I never would have thought possible. But then they pushed against mine harder, like he was drowning me with his breath, and I could feel his mouth opening…I push the memory away and bury my head in my pillow. I had been wrong. It wasn't from fear of him that I had run. It was from fear of myself.

I remember my promise to watch a movie with him tomorrow night, and hope I can tame my screwed up heart.

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_see ya next time kiddos. _

_remember: i lurvvve reviews! so please let me know what you think._

_xoxo_


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